Ike Campbell winced with every sour note that came out of Dottie Sullivan’s mouth. The DJ should have stuck with playing music and letting people dance under the strobe of colored lights twirling overhead. Karaoke was never a good idea when people were sober. Offering it after a couple of drinks was excruciating. At a party that was supposed to commemorate the merger of Sullivan Advertising and Byers Promotional Support…

Ike shook his head, and not for the first time. The joining of ad giants Sullivan and Byers was a big deal, but it seemed a little over the top to have the event happen on Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t a marriage. It was a business venture. Still, everyone had been on edge waiting for the final papers to go through. The party was the bosses’ way of letting the employees blow off a little steam, have fun, and bond—Sullivan Advertising in Los Angeles, Byers Promotional Support in New York City. The problem was, most of them were overcompensating while they waited for the stroke of midnight on the east coast when the merger became final. Nerves, he supposed.

Despite that, everyone seemed to be having a good time. Awful as the singing was, Ike had to admire those brave enough to risk humiliation and get up there. He sure as hell understood the need to cut loose.

Since he’d transferred to the Los Angeles office six months before, he’d been one hundred percent focused on work. There were still boxes around his house that needed to be unpacked. The stress was starting to show. Not so much outwardly—he really didn’t like taking his frustration out on others—but he felt it crawling inside.

He’d been missing New York a lot lately. The visit to the family at Christmas had been just that, a visit. He hadn’t had any time to slip away to his favorite club and indulge his needs. He sure as hell hadn’t had any time to research any clubs locally. The offer he couldn’t refuse to transfer to Sullivan had started to feel like a prison sentence. No one was more relieved than Ike that the merger was finally complete. Come this weekend…

That made him smile. That’s exactly what he’d planned to do—come until his balls collapsed. All he needed was a place…and a partner…or partners. One particular lady came to mind.

Ike’s body tightened at the thought of having Mercedes Suazo over his lap, her sweet ass bared. He’d been mesmerized by her from the second he’d arrived at Sullivan Advertising, one of the largest and best ad agencies in the Los Angeles area. There was an aura about her that hinted of something more. At least, that’s what Ike’s testosterone-laden mind wanted to believe. Though they worked in separate departments, he’d done his best to see their paths crossed often. Working twenty-four seven made hooking up impossible. The best he’d been able to accomplish was wolfing down a quick lunch with her…and their coworkers. But the work was over. He was taking that shot…if he could find her again.

He craned his neck scanning the crowded room. again. He’d seen her when he’d arrived, looking so hot every cock in the place probably lifted its head in appreciation. After flashing him a smile he interrupted as let’s play, she’d disappeared into a group of women on the far side of the room, and he’d been dragged off to sit with the people from his section. He’d waited for her long enough. As soon as everyone toasted the merger, he was going to find her and explore that smoldering heat he’d seen in her deep brown eyes.

His slurred voice was loud enough to carry over the music. Under normal circumstances, his nose was shoved so far up the boss’s ass that he couldn’t breathe. He was clearly too drunk to realize he’d insulted the boss’s wife…and everyone, including the boss, had heard him.

“Dottie’s having fun. Who’s cares?” Ike shot the man a glare. “If you think you can do any better, you go up there.”

Eddie snorted. “I’m not gonna go up there and make a fool of myself.”

“I can see your point.” Ike smirked. “Why waste the energy when you can sit here and do the same thing?”

Eddie smacked his beer bottle on the table. “You’re an ass.” Nevertheless, he shoved to his feet and staggered through the tables toward the stage. In less time than it had taken for Ike to issue his challenge, Eddie had the microphone in his hand. At least he’d had the presence of mind to wait for Dottie to finish.

“If you thought that was off-key, wait until you hear this. I guarantee I’d win any worst singer contest.” He snapped his finger at the DJ, and the music started—Shania Twain’s Man! I Feel Like A Woman! Any ill will Eddie’s previous comment had created dissipated in the explosion of laughter that followed.

Goose bumps rained over his neck and trickled down his body when her breath touched his ear. He’d been fantasizing about having her spread naked before him, and here she was. She’d come to him. It was all Ike could do to not grab her and hoist her over his lap. He swore the look in her eyes begged him to do just that.

Message received, baby.

The goddess slipped into the seat Eddie had vacated. The heat from her body radiated to him, scoring a path straight to the hard-on that raged every time he was near her, saw her, or thought about her. And he thought about her a lot.

She was the fantasy he beat-off to in the shower—her bare ass over his lap red from spanking, her standing over his bound body whip in hand. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d come thinking of her. Staring at her now, at her big brown eyes, those full lips that begged to be kissed, that silky fall of dark brown hair…

His cock throbbed for freedom. This was pain—this unrelenting ache of wanting her.